


The Owl

by Coeurire



Series: creature comforts [1]
Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:21:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24186553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coeurire/pseuds/Coeurire
Summary: After an owl attack, all Tobias wants is to sleep in a bed again.Takes place in the week after Tobias gains his morphing powers back from the Ellimist.
Relationships: Marco & Tobias (Animorphs), Rachel (Animorphs)/Tobias (Animorphs)
Series: creature comforts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1745611
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	The Owl

I have something of a nighttime routine now, which is a little nuts when I think about it too much. My old routine wasn't that different from any other kid's. I'd wash my face, brush my teeth, put on my pajamas, climb into bed and read for a little bit until my eyelids started to feel heavy. Then I'd turn out the light, and next thing I knew, sleep-town. 

I don't do that anymore. 

Now, after I catch--yes, you read that right,  _ catch _ \--dinner, my nighttime routine starts with me hanging out with my friend Ax while he eats his own. That’s already pretty weird. See, Ax is an Andalite, a kind of alien who looks a little like a cross between a deer and a scorpion, only blue. He eats by running across a field and absorbing nutrients through his hooves. So I get to watch that weird display while we chat about our days. 

After that, I preen my feathers, which I guess is a little like brushing your teeth or washing your face. Once my feathers are reasonably bug- and dirt-free, I fly into what I keep accidentally calling my “bedroom,” but is actually just a hole in a tree. I lock my talons around my perch, and that’s when I finally nod off. 

It’s weird being a bird. 

More specifically, a boy trapped in the body of a red-tailed hawk. Well, not totally trapped. When the Ellimist gave me the power to morph, they also gave me my human morph back. I could morph back to boy-Tobias and just get stuck there, the same way I got stuck as a hawk. I’d lose my power to morph forever, which would mean I’d be out of the war. I’d lose all my friends; like me, they’re more involved with the war than with anything else. And I might even lose Rachel, who is also one of my friends, but also something more.

So it wouldn’t be worth it. Really. I keep telling myself that.

I don’t sleep too deeply these days, anyway. I have to keep an eye out for nighttime predators, like raccoons and especially owls. The problem with owls is that they can sneak up on you before you even hear them coming. 

Like say you stayed up too late talking to Ax-man and drifted off on a branch, instead of in your usual hole, because you know it’ll be fine. Prey has been common, owls have no reason to challenge you. You’re having a dream about swooping down on a beautiful little mouse in a sunny, happy meadow. Everything is going well. Your talons are closing on the mouse, and suddenly there’s a whooshing noise and a searing pain across your neck, and you’re wide awake and falling, bleeding, being carried. 

Dying.

“TSEEEEER!” I howled in pain as the owl swooped away with me.

It couldn’t end like this. I wasn’t going to die as a hawk. I didn’t want my friends to fight tears as they fought the Yeerks, letting their grief getting in the way of battle. I didn’t want Rachel to cry. I didn’t want to be killed not in battle but in an everyday accident, like any other animal. The animal I was. 

And I didn’t want to die without anyone but my best friends even knowing I existed.

But there was a part of me that wanted to go. I was in so, so much pain, and it would be so easy to succumb to the fuzzy blackness that seemed to be surrounding me. I hope you never have to try and do anything while you’re dying. It’s no fun. It’s like swimming in a pool full of Jell-O, only the Jell-O forms hands that grab you and try to pull you under, forever. 

But I still tried to think quickly through the pain. I didn’t exactly have a lot of morphs prepared, but I did have one that could take on an owl, no problem. I summoned up every last drop of strength I could find, and began to morph. My whole body expanded outwards. My wings grew fatter and shorter, retracting into my body. In their place grew angry, short claws. My feathers shortened and pushed their way back into me; it was like being stuck with a thousand pushpins, but it didn’t really hurt. They became soft, thin hairs, and more hairs grew to complement them. My beak actually  _ grew _ a little bit as it formed a snout, and I felt whiskers extend out of me. Finally, in my half-formed beak/snout, I felt what I was looking for: teeth. My mind, my instincts changed sharply, and I just let them take over; better than feeling almost dead.

The owl fell as soon as I started putting on weight, crashing to the ground with a sickening thud and the  _ scrunch _ of dead leaves. It looked around wildly, but its talons retained their painful grasp. The raccoon was not used to being hurt. Not used to being challenged in any way, actually.

_ Slash!  _ My claws raked across its face. 

_ Snap!  _ My jaws closed around it, just to make sure. 

_ Chomp!  _ Delicious owl flesh. Not as good as carrion, or human trash, but better than nothing. I was hungry. Ravenous. I would eat my fill of this owl, then scuttle along the forest floor until I found a trash can, and then turn it over, rummaging for more delicious garbage. 

Wait, no. I didn’t want to do that. Did I? I did. Didn’t I? I looked down at my hands. They were red with owl blood. Did that bother me? 

It did, at least enough to shake off the raccoon brain. I was back as myself, whatever “myself” was now. Human, hawk, raccoon. I looked down at the dead owl and was hit with a flood of confusing emotions: relief, pride at my kill, a wave of fear that hadn’t had time to hit me as I sprang into action, leftover adrenaline, guilt, and…

And horror. That dead bird on the ground could have been me. 

I morphed back to hawk and pumped my wings until I reached the tops of the trees, and perched there, eyes wide. I considered heading back to my sleeping hole, but the thought made me want to cry, not that I could. I could be attacked again. And I didn’t want to sleep in a stupid cold hole in a stupid cold tree. I wanted to sleep in a bed. A warm, soft bed, with a pillow under my head, in a nice, safe house with no owls. 

Wait. 

I  _ could.  _

I was halfway to Rachel’s when I paused midair, flapping hard so as not to lose any altitude. I knew Rachel  _ would _ let me sleep in her bed, but somehow it felt sort of creepy to ask her. 

I landed on a tree branch to try and think. Cassie also would, but it still felt a little creepy. Jake would, and he even had a little setup for me in his attic still, but he could be so…pitying. Jake likes to be the big hero, and sometimes that means that someone else has to be the big zero. I could hear him now: “Of  _ course, _ Tobias. I’m so  _ sorry,  _ Tobias. Let me get you some hamburger, Tobias. Shhh shh shh. It’s okay, fragile little birdy baby.” Okay, he wouldn’t exactly say that last part, but sometimes that was what it felt when he talked to me. I didn’t need that, not right now.

That left…I groaned.  _ Marco. _

Marco is the most sarcastic and snide of the Animorphs. He’s also the only one who still jokes with me like I’m still a person, which I am, sort of. He  _ would  _ call me a fragile little birdy baby, only in a jokey tone of voice that let me know that I’m still part of the group and that he’s not going to pull any punches for me. I like that about him. 

Sure, he’d probably mercilessly tease me about this. But it would be fine. I’d deserve it, and he wouldn’t dish out anything he couldn’t take. Probably.

I was exhausted by the time I got to Marco’s house. Hawks, unlike owls, aren’t really made for flying at night, and I had to beat my wings hard to make up for the lack of thermals. I was surprised to see the light still on in his window; either it was earlier in the night by human standards than I had thought, since I’m used to going to bed around the time the sun goes down, or he was up late playing games on his PC. Sure enough, when I fluttered over to the windowsill and perched, I could see the telltale lights and colors flickering on the screen.

I tapped on the window three times with my beak and saw Marco just about jump out of his skin. Through the glass I could hear a word that I probably shouldn’t repeat. Seeing me didn’t make him look any calmer. 

<Sorry for scaring you,> I said in thoughtspeak.

“You couldn’t scare me, birdbrain,” he said, opening the window. I flew in and perched on his dresser. “I think the only thing you could scare is a mouse that doesn’t want to be dinner. Ba-da-ba-ba-ba! I’m lovin’ mouse.” 

<Very funny,> I told him. It actually was kind of funny, but you can’t tell Marco his jokes are funny. It goes right to his head.

“So what’s this about?” Marco asked. He was acting nonchalant, but I could hear the hint of worry in his voice. I knew why: usually I don’t go around knocking on people’s windows in the middle of the night unless we’re once again the only thing keeping the human race from immediately becoming Yeerk chow. 

But this time was different. <Um, it’s actually not Animorphs business,> I said. Even though I had already established that Marco was the best person to ask, I was still a little nervous that he would think I was being crazy. <I had kind of a rough night, and I don’t want to spend the rest of it out in the woods, so I was wondering if I could...take a nap in your bed in human form? Just for an hour and a half, so I don’t get stuck.>

Marco cocked his head and stared at me like I was a space alien. Or, well, a talking bird. 

<I know it sounds stupid--> I began.

“Stupid,” repeated Marco. “A talking bird comes to my house in the middle of the night and asks to sleep in bed with me, and then he wants me to know if that sounds stupid.” 

<I never said  _ with  _ you!> I was a little offended. <Actually, I’d need you to keep watch. For...the hour and a half. You know.> I started to realize how much I was actually asking of Marco. How much I’d be asking of any of my friends, just for a simple comfort. Was I being ridiculous?

“I still think it’s about the stupidest thing I ever heard,” Marco said, cutting into my thoughts. “Where do you usually sleep? A tree?” 

<Yeah,> I said, annoyed, <and how would you feel sleeping in a tree for the rest of your life? Would you want to maybe get back into bed every once in a while?>   
  


Marco and I stared at each other. I was about to apologize and leave when he threw up his hands. “Fine.” 

<Really?> I asked. <You mean it?>   
  


“Yeah,” he said. “I needed an excuse to stay up playing this game later anyway. Let me just set my alarm clock so I remember to wake you up and don’t have to explain to my dad why there’s an ex-bird permanently living in my house.” 

<Marco…> I was already starting to morph back to human. “...thank you,” I said, when my mouth came back.

“Don’t get sentimental on me, bird-brain.” He stood up, went to his bed and threw down the cover, patting the mattress. “And don’t expect me to forget this. You owe me one. Not that I’m even sure what you could do for me, but you’ll be the first person I call when I need a hit taken out on a rabbit.” 

“Also, could you not...tell the others about this?” Even though I’d just grown about four feet taller than I usually am, I felt very small. Vulnerable. 

Marco stared. “Not tell them about the funniest, dumbest thing that’s happened to me in the past year?” 

I looked at him. He threw up his hands again. “Sure. Fine. You can sleep in my bed, it can be a secret, whatever. What next? The Crown Jewels?” 

That was all I needed to hear. I crawled into bed. It smelled a little sweaty, which was gross, but otherwise it was exactly like I remembered. Warm, soft comforter. Light sheet. Soft pillow…

_ The half-bird, half-man strode across the strange, alien plane. It was made of grass, but also water. The creature bent down and picked up a rabbit, which crumbled under its wing-fingers. Beside it strode a red-haired bird-woman dressed as Xena: Warrior Princess, with beautiful orange wings. The two took hands, and together, ritualistically, pulled the slugs from out of their ears. They leaned in to share a kiss-- _

A hand shook me, and I awoke slowly, hearing Marco calling, “Tobias!” in the distance. 

“Ghhhhh,” I said. “Human dreams. What?”

“It’s been an hour and a half,” Marco said. He yawned. “Get out of there so I can get in.” 

I demorphed. “Cool if I sthhhhhhhrrrghh.” I needed to stop morphing midsentence. <...cool if I stay on your windowsill tonight?” 

“Go for it, T-man,” Marco said. “But only because hawks don’t snore. You’re a real log-sawer in human form.” 

I drifted off to sleep again, still in the warm glow of my human dream and of finally, _finally_ getting to do something a little bit human again.

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter: Coeurire (writing) / archieandrews69 (personal)
> 
> Tumblr: mothbutterfly
> 
> Thanks for reading!!!


End file.
